Deeper Into Arcadia
by MademoiselleSpooky
Summary: With neighbors this nosy...wouldn't it make sense to share a bedroom?  Okay Chapter 4 is up and pretty much PWP-enjoy folks :-
1. Chapter 1

Deeper into Arcadia

Summary: With all those nosy neighbors, wouldn't it be safer to share a bedroom to avoid suspicion?

Rating: PG

Dana Scully sighed as she packed one more outfit into a box. Used to strange assignments, she was admittedly unaccustomed to ones involving role playing. But here she was, with a box full of cashmere twinsets and Liz Claiborne slacks. She was about to assume the role of Laura Petrie-upperclass suburban housewife.

How many times had she imagined that exact role for herself before? It seems as women, we never want what we have. Housewives with Kitchenaid blenders and cashmere twinsets wish they were hardcore, adventurous FBI investigators. FBI investigators wish they could just settle down, relax at the end of the day and watch some crap quality TV with a warm, snuggly husband. Sigh.

This case had all the trappings of that glossy suburban lifestyle that she knew did not exist (and wouldn't be right for her if it did). Yet her stomach was still in her throat. She was going to share a home with Mulder under the guise of husband and wife, in order to investigate some suspicious deaths in an idyllic planned community.

She laughed a little at the irony. Planned communities WERE a little creepy, weren't they? Every house the same-go into your neighbor's house and know exactly where the bathroom is, accidentally reach for the drinking glasses in the cabinet where you keep them in your own house. Perfect lawns, perfect images, perfect people living their perfect public lives, while who knew what lurked beneath? Seemed in this planned community, it was something sinister indeed.

Yet Arcadia must have had a certain endearing charm-as people were honored to be accepted there and thrilled to submit to their endless association rules. There must be something there. Was it the illusion of purchasing the Perfect Life in an all-inclusive package?

Anyway, back to packing. Her crime scene supplies went into a box marked "dishes" and the dreaded twinsets were packed into one labeled "bedroom". Bedroom. Bedroom indeed. How on earth were she and Mulder to handle this "bedroom" issue? They always maintained separate rooms when they traveled. She would never let him know that sometimes she wanted to crawl into bed with him and spend the night. She couldn't. It would ruin not only their friendship but their work partnership-might even cost them their jobs.

But she just melted inside when he was protective of her, when he hugged her after a frightening encounter, when he stood by her during her father's funeral, when he was just plain there for her, no matter what she needed. She hated to admit needing his comfort, his presence, his warm hands and strong arms. But she did. And she was terrified that some day he would realize it, realize that she was not Iron Scully who could take anything with scientific detachment.

It was certainly an exciting introduction to Arcadia when the moving truck pulled up and neighbors swarmed them, grabbing boxes and furniture right and left. Scully tried to protect her "dishes" box but it got dropped. She cringed as she heard the fragile testing equipment shatter inside. This was not an auspicious beginning. She watched Mulder argue with someone over his basketball hoop. So much for a low profile. They would be lucky if their cover wasn't blown before the bedroom issue ever came up.

Finally, the neighbors left and the moving truck pulled away (just in time, according to the association rules on moving times). Scully sighed and looked over at Mulder, looking quite polished but completely fake in his Izod shirt and Ralph Lauren slacks. She laughed inwardly as she thought of his pigsty of an apartment. Yes, this was going to take some serious acting chops. And now there were only about 4 hours before the big bedroom question was going to need to be addressed.

"So, Mul...uh...Rob." She tried not to laugh again. She felt ridiculous. "Let's get to work." For four hours they worked collecting evidence and examining the far corners of the house. They found a few things and bagged them for testing. Scully held out hope that they would be able to quickly solve this and get the hell out of this place. This faux marriage was just hitting her far too close to home.

Another personal demon was rearing its head within her. Posing as a married couple in a nosy community, one of the first questions that would be hitting her was the question of children. A question she hated. Not only was she now unable to conceive, if she had been superlatively fertile she still would not have had anyone to conceive WITH, making her biological clock tick louder and louder and louder. Some days her womb just ached to carry a baby. Some days she just cried from the loss of something she never even had. A soft, warm baby to cuddle in her arms, a nursery to lovingly decorate, tiny clothes...tears pricked in her eyes and she quickly invented an urgent need for the bathroom.

Inside the (tastefully neutral) bathroom, she collected herself as she tried mightily to push the thought of a happy family from her head. Just her...and Mulder...their precious baby...stop. Real tears began to fall. She just couldn't help it. Lately these baby thoughts, completely against her will, kept welling up in her at the most inconvenient times. And even more against her will, they always involved Mulder. Placing his warm, gentle hands on her swollen belly, holding her hand during ultrasound appointments, holding her close and telling her what a beautiful family he had.

And now, play acting at being married to him, for heaven's sake, sharing a home with him...it was too much for her. How does one act out her greatest desire, when one knows she will never have it? Wiping at her eyes with toilet paper and making sure her mascara wasn't running, she faced off with herself in the mirror. "Agent Dana Scully. You have completed difficult assignments before. You are just going to have to soldier on through this one as well." A little thought flitted through her mind. Maybe she should just enjoy this and stop obsessing over the fact that it was fake. Maybe she should just embody Laura Petrie fully, and consider it method acting.

Late that evening, after dinner at the neighbor's house, she should have felt relief when the door closed behind them, putting a barrier between them and this crazy bunch of nosy Stepford people. But her stomach was churning and her hands were shaking. It was ten p.m. It was bedtime. The bedroom thing had to be addressed. Her earlier resolve to enjoy the sham and chalk it up to good acting had crumbled in the soft evening light. She wanted so much to just crawl into bed with him and be safe and comfortable in his arms...but she couldn't admit it.

"Rob." She said, trying to put on a cool, collected facade. "I know we usually have separate bedrooms. But with the level of nosiness this community encourages...I almost wonder if there won't be rumors flying tomorrow that our marriage is on the rocks."

He raised an eyebrow in his characteristic maddening adorable Mulder way. "Laura Petrie I declare." he drawled at her. "Separate bedrooms? What on EARTH are you suggesting?"

She glared at him. At least he made this easier by being a smartass. "Really, I think we should just share a bedroom...to keep in character." She let out a huge breath. There. It was out. Now all she had to do was keep the mental demons at bay as she spent the entire night in the same bed with Mulder, all the while knowing that she wanted to spend every night that way.

In the moonlit bedroom with the enormous, fluffy bed, Scully again felt giddy and ridiculous. Why oh why did this have to be so difficult? She stood in the master bathroom fretting over her nightwear. She had splurged on a new nightgown when she had purchased her Laura Petrie wardrobe, figuring if all those beautiful clothes were going to be essentially wasted she could at least treat herself to something pretty to keep.

It was a floor length royal blue gown with lace along the top of the bodice. It was shiny, silky satin. She felt absolutely beautiful in it, but when she had purchased it she had not been thinking that it would be on display to anyone but herself. She had not considered the spectre of sharing a bedroom, and a bed, with her partner. Now she was terrified that Mulder would misinterpret it as an act of seduction. But she had nothing else to wear but a ratty t-shirt, and she wasn't going to wear that. Taking a deep breath, she turned off the light and walked from the bathroom into the bedroom.

Mulder was already in the bed with his laptop, but he looked up when she came in, and the appreciation on his face was quite obvious. "Scully you look absolutely stunning." He said without sarcasm. His smile was genuine, and his eyes showed the tender love of a man gazing upon his bride. (Or did her traitorous mind make that part up?) He smiled at her as she blushed furiously and very nearly turned around and returned to the safety of the bathroom.

"I didn't realize we'd be sharing a room when I bought it." She said meekly, and stood shifting her weight between her bare feet, trying to decide what to do. She didn't know that she had any other choices, and began to walk over to "her" side of the bed.

She climbed in, facing away from him, and laid there, wide awake, worrying about what Mulder thought, worrying about her future, worrying about the case. She heard the click of his laptop and the sheets rustled as he eased down under the covers. She nearly exploded when he shifted closer to her and placed a warm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. When she didn't move, he must have assumed she was asleep and placed a single kiss on her shoulder blade. "Goodnight Laura" he whispered.

Three hours later, Scully was still wide awake and staring out the window. The skin on her shoulder still tingled where he had kissed her. She had been hashing it over in her mind for so long now that she wasn't even positive that she hadn't imagined it.

What on earth did it mean? Had he somehow divined her innermost feelings? Did he realize that this farce—this playacting at happy married couple wore at her heart so keenly? Or was he merely taking an opportunity that he wouldn't have otherwise? He could blame it on "staying in character". She wished she believed that last one. She wished she could believe he did it because he loved her the same as she did him.

She heard him grunt in his sleep as he rolled over and threw his arm over her. She held her breath for a moment, willing herself not to squeak in surprise. Suddenly he was curled around her, his face nestled next to her ear, and his hand coming to rest on her belly.

Arousal gripped her as tears stung her eyes at the same time. This was nice. Too nice. He was just a breath away from nibbling on her ear, and she blushed to think at what was pressed snugly up against her bottom. But it was the placement of his hand that drove deep ino her soul and seared her. It was such a tender, intimate gesture, yet it was devoid of sexual innuendo. It was the stereotypical touch of a man caressing his wife's pregnant belly. How many nights had she dreamed of his hand resting right there, to feel the child growing within her-their child?

She tried to banish the thoughts by thinking of telling AD Skinner. "Why yes, Assistant Director Skinner, I was only trying to remain in character. The blue satin gown was to further my undercover identity as Laura Petrie, not to titillate Agent Mulder. The fact that we were sharing a bedroom? Now, what would the neighbors think if we slept apart? The fact that I laid awake all night fantasizing about having sex with him and getting pregnant with his child is completely and totally secondary to my commitment to the character of Laura Petrie."

She tried mightily to stifle the laugh but it came out as a snort. Clamping a hand over her mouth she listened to Mulder stir, then snuggle back up against her without waking. Big sigh of relief. With that relief came a surprising relaxation-Mulder really was so warm and comforting to lay next to. She felt safe and protected. And aroused. Still aroused. But she certainly wasn't going to do anything about that tonight. Smiling to herself she snuggled closer, deciding to enjoy this once in a lifetime gift for what it was, and maybe neither one of them would remember it tomorrow, so there would be no associated awkwardness.

His hand was still on her belly, his lips barely brushing against her ear, when she drifted off into an unusually peaceful sleep.

Scully blinked awake as the sun came streaming through her window and right into her eyes. She grunted and turned her face down into the pillow. A hazy memory was coming back to her-did she sleep snuggled up to Mulder last night? She felt warm, but it was only the sun, Mulder's side of the bed was empty. A note was left on the pillow: "Went for a run. –Rob" She breathed a deep sigh of relief as her memories of last night crystallized. She HAD fallen asleep in his arms. She HAD slept snuggled up to him in a terribly expensive satin nightie, with his entire body pressed right up against her. She HAD fallen asleep despite being amazingly turned on. And thankfully, he must have rolled away in the night and woken up without any idea that he had snuggled up to her in his sleep. It was just human nature to snuggle next to a sleeping partner. A primal need to keep warm.

She smiled to herself, having settled that, and got up to begin getting herself ready for another day as Laura Petrie. She hummed to herself as she ran a hot shower, brushed her teeth, blew out her hair, and dressed in a pink twinset and gray slacks. She felt so much better today. Her hormones must have just been crazy out of whack yesterday. She was going to be fine. She was going to figure out this case and never ever ever wear a twinset again in her life. Smiling, she put the final touches on her makeup and started downstairs for a cup of coffee.

As the shadows lengthened toward evening, Scully wondered what the hell had happened to Mulder. She had hardly seen him all day; almost as though he was avoiding her. She had seen him put a pink flamingo in the yard, but then hadn't seen him until hours later, when he was disappearing into the garage. Then she glimpsed him later as she was on her way out, but he had his nose buried in the inch-thick community guidelines book and he barely looked up to acknowledge her. Was he mad at her? Did he think she had tried to start something untoward with him? Clearly they were on HER side of the bed! He had to know that it was him that moved over to be by her, didn't he?

Two theories ran through her head simultaneously. One, perhaps he was embarrassed. It had been a very long time since she had spent the night with a man, but she certainly remembered waking up and being poked with a hard morning erection. What if he thought she had faked being still asleep, and didn't want her to know? Obviously it was just natural...the testosterone surge in early morning... but she guessed it was pretty embarrassing to poke your partner so intimately like that, even when your partner was a doctor.

The other theory, what if HE had been pretending to sleep, last night when he put his arm around her? Maybe it wasn't just primal nature leading to snuggling. Maybe he was using his Rob Petrie role as a cover to try to light her fire. She gulped. He had succeeded.

Either way, this was going to be embarrassing for at least one of them, and probably both.

That evening, she put on her blue nightie without a second though and climbed into bed with a book. She was going to wait him out-where the hell was he? He had to come to bed eventually. They were going to talk like adults and banish this weirdness so they could concentrate on their case. After nearly 100 pages her eyes started to glaze over and she caught herself drifting to sleep. She glanced over at the clock—it was nearly 3 a.m. Now worried, she grabbed her robe and pulled it around her as she padded down the hall, peeking in the other bedrooms. "Mulder?" she called softly? "Rob?" She wasn't sure what he was up to. Was he messing with her? Trying to see if she would come to him?

Not finding him upstairs she crept downstairs, her heart beating faster as she began to worry. What if something had happened to him?

In the fuzzy orange light of the streetlamp, she saw a form lying on the couch, and she suppressed a giggle. Was he THAT used to sleeping on a couch that he just couldn't sleep in a bed anymore?

"Rob?" she asked softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Honey?" that one just popped out—she had NOT meant to say that! His eyes opened slowly as he turned to face her. "Why don't you come to bed?" His eyes widened suddenly, his brain fuzzy from sleep. He hadn't immediately remembered that he was Rob, and she was Laura.

Scully decided if he could use his cover identity for his own convenience, so could she. "You know I hate to sleep alone." She smiled and tugged at his hand. "Come on. You don't want the neighbors to talk."

"Scully...I mean...Laura..." he pulled back on her hand, not getting up. "I'm really sorry. I didn't intend to take advantage of you. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable." He was looking up at her so sincerely, she almost felt like crying agian.

"Mulder." She smiled and sat down next to him. Her mind was racing. "I actually slept really nice snuggled up with you." Whoa. Did she actually say that out loud? She blushed.

He smiled at her tenderly, and pulled her against him for a hug. "Let's just go to bed without awkwardness, okay? I'm really tired and I need some sleep. It's clear we're both a little weirded out." Grateful to him for finding the words so she didn't have to, she reveled in the warm, sleepy hug, and then followed him upstairs.

As though they had done it every night for decades, they slipped into bed together, snuggled right up against each other. In the tangle of bedsheets and blankets, his hand found hers and their fingers interlaced. She squeezed his hand gently. "Good night Mulder".

"Good night Scully." he whispered, before planting a tender kiss on her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

Arcadia Continues

Chapter 2

The same day, but from Mulder's POV

When he first saw the case come across his desk, Fox Mulder was nonplussed. How many of these silly cases were they going to stick him and Scully with? Some crazed suburbanite running rampant in an upscale planned community? This was absolutely ridiculous as far as he was concerned. How was this FBI business?

As he read a little closer, however, his interest piqued. The community in question was so tightly knit, so insular, that Skinner was requesting he and Scully go under cover as a married couple living in the neighborhood. Well now. Wouldn't that be an interesting twist? Two DC area singles from the FBI, posing as upmarket married snobs, living a perfectly false existence. Sighing, he realized he was being a little too harsh. Considering what life could deal out, he couldn't blame people for wanting to create a fiction that was more appealing. No alien abductions, no children sent away, no shady adulterous dealings….at least on the outside. Just perfect Ozzie & Harriet goodness with a cherry on top.

Smiling to himself, he realized the "cherry" in this case was getting to spend some time away from the Bureau and with Agent Scully. He had pretty much given up on the idea of them actually living together as a couple. His cynical mind refused to believe that she would ever feel the same sense of oneness he felt with her. On some level, he realized it was simply a façade his brain had manufactured to protect his heart. He didn't know if he could handle losing someone as important to him as Scully-not again.

He realized with a pang that this fake marriage was going to carry some awkwardness with it. Snuggling on the couch after a hard day? Probably not happening. Scully coming to him with her concerns and worries and wanting his advice? Not hardly. Carrying her over the threshold? She'd kill him.

He indulged himself in a bit of fantasy imagining sharing a big, plush bedroom with her. Big, four poster bed, soft luxurious sheets, and not a stitch of clothing between them…..

The phone rang. It was Scully. Perfect timing, he grinned to himself.

"Mulder are you done packing? I've spent three days working on it. I'm supposing you are just planning to throw a few things in a box at the very last minute." She sounded annoyed. He hoped she wasn't mad at him.

"Scully! Why is it you assume that?" he asked, innocently.

"So are you still packing?" she asked, impatiently.

"No Scully, I bought everything new and had it shipped." There was a long silence on the other end of the line that told him she did not find his solution terribly clever.

"Okay then, well, I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning at your place, okay?"

"Sure, that's great." He hung up the phone and contemplated whether he should return to his fantasy or head home and…well…actually pack the things that he hadn't had shipped.

As he drove home, he allowed his mind to wander again. Would they in fact be sharing a bedroom? It wasn't exactly something he could suggest; it would sound suggestive at best. He couldn't deny that he really wanted to. But on the other hand, it would be a fantastic form of torture to spend the whole night next to her beautiful, delicate, goddess-like person and not lay a hand on her. He had to shift a little bit in his seat as his pants started getting tight. And he was just thinking about her.

It had been like this for so long. He loved her on ever y level it was possible for a man to love a woman. He protected her, dreamed about her, rescued her, laid out his own troubles to her. He had cried on her shoulder, been held by her while he was sick, woken up wishing she was next to him. So many times it had been on the tip of his tongue to say "Please just stay tonight." But the words had been tainted by volumes of media that made them words of seduction, rather than just a simple invitation. It was true he wanted to make love to her. But it was so much more than just that. He longed for the simple, sweet, loving human contact of having her beautiful little self next to him.

She made him a better man. He wondered if she knew that.

He woke up the next morning to his cell phone ringing. Fumbling for it fell onto the floor, and he managed to find it and hit the talk button before it stopped ringing. "Mulder" he said sleepily.

"I can't believe you're still asleep! I'm five minutes away Mulder, get up and get ready." Scully hung up the phone and he sighed. He hadn't even begun his stint as a quasi-married man and he was already in trouble. He smiled as he pictured her angry-with-him expression. He hated to admit it, but it was completely adorable.

Hoisting himself up off the couch, he took the world's quickest shower and was just pulling on his shirt when Scully knocked on his door. "Coming!" he said, as he reached for the doorknob. Standing in his doorway was Scully as he had never seen her before-in brown tweed pants, a soft cream sweater, and a string of pearls. "Wow, you look nice." He smiled. She looked hot in her sharp little black suits, but today she looked softer, more vulnerable, more….like an upscale suburban housewife, he supposed.

"Mulder you're not dressed." She sighed and shook her head.

"I'm almost dressed, Scully! Give me a little credit!" he pulled out a LaCoste polo shirt and held it up for approval.

"Okay, put it on, let's get moving." She said. "We've got a long drive ahead of us."

All day they were busy moving, gathering evidence, and meeting the neighbors. Mulder set his mind to create a file of each individual and their behavior, their attitude, their potential motive. He didn't have time to really think about the fact that he and Scully were going to have to keep up a believable fiction of marriage. And he was somehow going to have to accomplish that without betraying the fact that he wished it weren't fiction.

Scully suddenly stood up and announced she needed to use the bathroom, and disappeared quickly. He hoped she wasn't sick. She looked like she was really upset. Maybe this neighborhood was already getting to her. Deciding against checking on her just yet, he instead sat back and looked at the mountain of boxes in the living room. Right at the top, in Scully's rounded yet purposeful handwriting, was a box labeled "bedroom". Not "bedroom 1" or "bedroom 2". Just "bedroom".

Had Scully also considered the "nosy neighbor" implications of separate bedrooms? These people seemed to know which drawer you kept your forks in, so he didn't doubt they'd be risking their cover story if they occupied separate ones. It couldn't be that Scully had….wanted to share a bedroom with him for any other reason, could it?

He was jarred from his reverie as she came out of the bathroom, her eyes red. She immediately returned to her evidence gloves and bags however, without even looking at him. If she was sick, or upset about something, she didn't want him to know. He decided to keep an eye on her, even more than usual, until he was sure she was okay.

That evening they had been invited to dinner at a neighbor's house. At least the food was good. He suffered through invasive questions, ridiculous snobbery, and probing inquiries about how many children they planned to have. He saw Scully stiffen as that issue was broached. He felt for her—he knew it was a sensitive topic for her.

"Really we consider adoption to be the most ethically responsible choice" he butted in, trying his best to redirect the question. The neighbors looked at him in surprise, and then went on to something else, clearly unsure how to respond. One point for him, he figured. But only one.

Guilt gnawed at his heart. He felt like it was his fault Scully couldn't have a baby, which he knew she wanted more than anything. It was his case that had put her in danger, and since her abduction she had been told she was now infertile. It was one of many times he had failed to protect her adequately, and he never stopped feeling the sting of failure for each and every lapse.

Beyond that, there was nothing he'd rather do than be able to give her what she wanted—that warm loving nuclear family in a sturdy little house, far away from the dangers of FBI work. He couldn't give her a baby, even if she would have him. He couldn't give her that sturdy house and secure marriage because he couldn't give up his life's work. And he couldn't even keep her safe as long as he was doing that.

He was brought back to earth by the clatter of plates—apparently he had made it through dinner and now the man of the house was going to show him his entertainment center while the wife and Scully took a walk. This was definitely weird. As the man chattered on about projection angles and digital media he continued to worry at the bedroom question. In addition to the awkwardness, he now had a heaping helping of guilt to slather on top of burning arousal. Should make for a restful night.

It turned out that he didn't really need to worry about bringing up what he privately thought of as The Bedroom Question because to his surprise, Scully brought it up for him. His heart melted inside as he watched her blush and try to act as though it weren't at all difficult for her to address. It almost allowed him to think that maybe she was looking forward to the experience….even just a little.

In the bedroom that was bigger than his whole apartment, he sat on an impossibly fluffy mattress between satiny soft sheets. He had his laptop out and was trying desperately to focus on creating some sort of outline to organize the evidence they had collected, but his mind was most certainly not on his job. How could it be, when he was sitting in nothing but boxer shorts, ready for Scully to join him in bed? He had spent 6 years fantasizing about evenings like this (well, slightly different evenings as well) and now he was sitting here in a king size bed, and she was going to join him as soon as she came out of the bathroom.

He sort of wondered what she was doing in there, but he knew that women sometimes spent inexplicably long periods of time in the bathroom, and it was best not to ask them what they were doing. He was just trying to refocus on his computer screen when the bathroom door opened, and he had to conceal a little gasp of surprise.

Scully, HIS Scully, who was more beautiful than any woman in the world, had managed to outdo even herself. Her petite little body shimmered in a clinging satin nightgown that brushed the floor, almost as if it were a little too long. It outlined the gentle curve of her hips and wrapped around her tiny waist. An edging of lace at the top left just enough to his imagination, cupping around the swells of her creamy smooth little breasts.

He realized he was staring. "Scully, you look absolutely stunning." He managed to say.

She blushed and her feet turned inward and she wrapped her arms around herself. It was a completely precious little move. "I didn't realize we'd be sharing a bedroom when I bought it. I figured….well I figured only I would see it." Fox Mulder realized he was an incredibly lucky man, if no one was supposed to see this gorgeous vision, and yet somehow he had gotten to.

He smiled at her as she made her way across the carpet to her side of the bed, keeping his laptop in place to hide the change in the topography of his body. She slipped into bed and faced away from him, and he fought the urge to spoon up right next to her and begin nibbling on her neck. How in the world was he going to get any sleep at all?

He closed his laptop and set it on the nightstand. Was she already asleep? Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't moving. It had been a very long day, and a stressful one as well. He had no trouble believing that she could be that tired. Easing himself down between the sheets, he watched for any sign of movement. Seeing that there was none, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her shoulder blade. "Good night, Laura." He whispered. Then he readied himself for a restless night, but apparently he was tired from moving too, as he was soon sound asleep as well.

Sun streamed through the window and Mulder woke up to find that his arms were wrapped protectively around Scully. A moment of panic and confusion crossed his sleep-addled mind-what had happened? Had they done….something…last night? Had she snuggled up to him? No, they were on her side of the bed. It must have been him that snuggled up to her. One of his hands was resting on her tummy, directly on that soft satin. He could feel her warm skin and the hollow of her belly button beneath his hand.

And suddenly, he realized he had a new problem. Not an unusual problem for a man, but definitely an embarrassing one to have when finding yourself with your body pressed up against your very attractive professional partner. Praying that she didn't wake up, he rolled away from her and locked himself in the bathroom. This was going to be one hell of a week.

Still keyed up and filled with nervous energy, he tried to lose himself in the rhythm of a good hard run. His heart pounded, his shoes hit the asphalt, and his mind raced. That fabulous nightie. She looked like a Hollywood starlet in it. Waking up next to her. Had his body betrayed his mind to the extent that he rolled over in his sleep to cuddle her? And the hand on the tummy-of course where a baby would grow, if she were ever able to get pregnant. But of course he had ruined that for her. And then to top it off, poking her in the butt with morning wood. Very smooth. He wasn't sure how he was going to face her today. He willed his mind to the case. Pretend it's an X file, he told himself. Put that much energy into it. Heaven knows you have the energy to spare.

He decided that nosy neighbors or not, it would be best if he spent the next night on the couch.

When night fell, he did just that, tossing and turning to try to find a comfortable spot in the too-hard couch. His couch was worn in all the right places. This one was clearly used only for sitting on it seemed—and very careful sitting at that. He grunted as he rolled again, and his blanket slid off. Sigh. He wasn't going to get much sleep here at all.

Again exhaustion had won out and he had unknowingly drifted off when he felt a little hand on his shoulder. He looked up, confused. It was Scully…or was it Laura? Were they still in Arcadia? Where was he, on the couch? He rolled towards her, and she smiled at him. How he loved that smile.

"Come to bed." She invited him. "You know I hate to sleep alone." Relief flooded him. Whatever had happened—whatever she had noticed or whatever she had not, she wasn't mad at him, and she had come looking for him in the wee hours of the morning. He was touched by that small gesture. It was the sort of thing that made him fall in love with her all over again. Dare he believe that, beneath all that awkwardness, maybe she had enjoyed having him sleep next to her? He knew he had slept better than he had in years, just knowing she was safe there next to him, right up next to his body, her soft skin touching him and softening his hardened heart.

"Scully I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

"Mulder, it's okay. I actually slept quite nice snuggled up next to you." His heart swelled with love for her. That she had enjoyed being next to him, had taken comfort from his presence, and had felt safe with him, safe enough to sleep soundly, made him melt.

He reached up and pulled her in for a hug. "Let's just forget this awkwardness and try to get some sleep, huh?" This was just another thing on that list of things he loved about her. He couldn't imagine confessing that to anyone else. And yet he knew that she would understand. Six years together, and he felt comfortable revealing his own weaknesses to her, while he could do that with no one else in the world.

They climbed into the bed together. Sexual tension still crackled between them, but right now, they were just plain tired. They drifted together into the middle of the bed, and he reached out and found her hand with his. "Good night Mulder" she said softly.

"Good night Scully" he said, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

Tonight he waited until he was absolutely sure she was asleep before he lightly brushed her hair back from her ear. "I love you" he whispered, as softly as he possibly could. And then he fell asleep, her hand still entwined with his.


	3. Chapter 3

Arcadia: Day 3

Scully woke up in Mulder's arms and smiled. She could totally get used to this. Alas, she really had to pee, so she carefully extracted herself from his embrace and paused momentarily to admire his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. For years he had complained of insomnia and fitful sleep. She was glad that at least last night he had the benefit of a good rest.

After relieving herself she fussed with her hair a bit in the mirror, missing her usual hairdo. This Laura Petrie look just wasn't her. It was close enough that it wasn't like a real costume, but far enough off the mark that it bothered her. Sighing, she brushed her teeth and washed her face, and returned to the bedroom.

She considered trying to sneak back under the covers, but instead she pulled on her robe and went downstairs. She needed a few moments alone inside her own head to process last night's events.

She felt awful that Mulder had been embarrassed. And even more awful that he felt like he had to sleep on the couch. It would be so much easier if she could just admit to him how much she really enjoyed having him there in bed next to her. Oddly enough, it just seemed to get more and more difficult to admit the further along in their partnership they got. It was almost as if they had moved so far beyond love, into deep, intimate trust and an eerie ability to sense each others' needs, that going backward and saying "yeah, I love you" seemed so awkward.

She actually wondered if Mulder was even willing to open himself up to loving someone and being loved again. He had been hurt so many times. His family had fallen apart. They had never been terribly close to begin with, and he had missed out on that sturdy foundation of togetherness that she had with her family. His sister, the one person that should keep him from feeling alone in the world, was gone. And in a horrible twist of fate, she knew he felt responsible for Samantha's disappearance. Whether it was because he felt he should have been able to overcome whatever held him immobile and grabbed her away from the force that took her, or because he felt it should have been him abducted in the first place, she didn't know. But she always knew that pain, that guilt underlined everything he did.

His protectiveness of her, which often annoyed her, was nonetheless something she cherished. She knew he felt responsible for her. But she was never certain whether it was because he believed she was incapable of handling herself, or something more irrational. Or was it possible that he just cared for her that much, that he was afraid she would disappear. Maybe he believed everyone he cared about would be taken away. He probably did.

And then there was the little matter of that unresolved sexual tension between them. Talk about awkward. Being so close to him in such intimate quarters made her heart pound and her head feel dizzy. And waking up next to him knowing he was hard...well, that was pretty tough to handle gracefully. She allowed herself to imagine for a moment, what she would do if she were more like Melissa. She would have rolled over and woken him up by taking him inside of her. Spent the morning in bed, satisfying an urge that had been there for six years, simmering under the surface.

She laid her head back and indulged in the fantasy. She felt warm and tingly all over and could not keep the huge grin off her face. She'd like to snatch off those black boxers, hike up that long blue nightgown...

"Good morning Scully." Of course, Mulder had chosen that exact moment to walk downstairs. In said black boxers. He had a robe on but it was hanging open, so it might as well not have been there.

Scully gasped and sat upright. "Good morning!" she chirped, too cheerfully, taking a long drink of her coffee. She needed to avoid his gaze and collect herself. For the love of God he walked in on her fantasizing about him. Big sigh.

"Are you all right, Scully?" he asked, a little smirk on his face. Ohmigod did he know? Was it that obvious? Was she blushing? Could he hear her heart pounding?

"Oh yeah...I'm fine!" She choked on her coffee. "Be right back!" She stumbled into the bathroom and leaned against the closed door, giggling nervously. She felt like she was seventeen again. She wanted to act all composed and adult but she couldn't deny this giddy rush was really enjoyable. She put her hand over her pounding heart and breathed deeply.

She had spent 6 years with him as her partner. This wasn't the first time this idea had occurred to her. It was, however, the first time he had caught her mid-fantasy. How the hell was she going to explain this?

"Scully!" he knocked on the door, making her jump. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine." She took a deep breath, willing her pulse to slow. "Fine, really. Just...uh...got coffee up my nose."

She heard him laughing out there. "Okay I'm going to go take a shower, then see if I can get some coffee up my nose, okay?" She shook her head, laughing. Her head fell back against the door with a thunk. She needed to banish the thought from her head that she'd like to join him in the shower. She needed to banish that thought right now. She needed to concentrate on this case so she could go back to being an adult and not a giddy sexually charged teenage girl.

This afternoon they had a meeting with the president of the homeowners association. It was ostensibly to make a case for exception of Mulder's basketball hoop, but really it was to see if the president actually knew more about these homicides than he was letting on. Or what if he was even behind them? She had heard of feisty homeowners' associations before but never ones that bumped off noncompliant residents.

This morning she would get a chance to visit some of the other residents and see if she could possibly glean any further information from them about the sudden disappearances. And she would give herself a bit of time away from Mulder to try and calm down.

Late that afternoon, Scully sat on the couch of the association president, frustrated in more ways than one. She had been able to pry no information from the tightlipped neighbors. It was as if they had all agreed that nothing was happening out of the ordinary, and they were all equally committed to denying that there was. And then, of course, here "time away from Mulder" had calmed her down...until he sat RIGHT next to her on the couch and she was practically swooning all over again.

As she listened to him argue with the president about basketball hoops, she wondered whether he realized what he was doing to her or not. Could he sense her arousal and was messing with her, maybe even trying to goad her into action? Or was he completely unaware? She figured if he was completely unaware, it was no longer a surprise to her that he didn't have much of a social life.

He put his arm around her and she suddenly realized his hand was stroking the back of her neck. Oh my goodness she had to get out of here before she exploded. How was she going to make it until they were safely behind closed doors?

Involuntarily, her eyes widened as she was shocked by her own thoughts. Her inner monologue had rolled on as though it was already completely understood that they were going to go back to the house and...she stood up.

"Thank you for your time, sir." she told the president. "I'm afraid we have to be going."


	4. Chapter 4

Deeper Into Arcadia

Chapter 4

Rated: M (sorry kids)

As they walked back to "their", house, Scully was frantically trying to calm herself down. He had put his hand on her neck. It was completely in character. It wasn't the first time. And it had electrified her. And now they were almost back to "their" house and she realized that she was simply not going to be able to talk herself out of this one. She was going to have to relieve the pressure somehow or she was going to completely blow this case. She couldn't concentrate. She couldn't relax. And, most frustrating of all, her own ministrations this morning had only temporarily solved the problem. There was nothing like...well...dick. She giggled. She hoped he did not see her squirming.

One of the drawbacks to being a doctor was that you KNEW all of the different processes of the body in extreme detail, and while they were happening sometimes your mind ticked them off like a checklist. Which was rather unnerving, yes, but also it focused your attention on those processes, making them more acute in many cases.

This was unfortunately one of those. She KNEW the different stages of arousal as the body readied itself for sexual intercourse. And her mind was dutifully calling attention to every one as it went down its checklist. Accellerated heartbeat (check). Hardened, sensitized nipples (check). Warm flush over breasts (check). Quickened respiration (check). Increased lubrication (check). Engorged, sensitized vulva (check). Vaginal walls receding and deepening to allow full access (check). Inability to sit still and think straight (check). They were almost to the door.

XXXXXXX

Mulder was concerned about Scully. She hadn't been acting herself since the beginning of this case. On the first day she had darted in the bathroom so suddenly he was worried she was sick. That first night she had acted so nervous—nothing like the cool-headed Scully he knew. This morning he had found her with her head thrown back, breathing heavily, and for a second he wondered if she was masturbating. And now she had wanted to leave the president's house so immediately, so quickly, he was worried she was sick again.

He looked over at her. Something was definitely up. She looked completely spaced out whereas she usually carried herself so strictly. Her cheeks were flushed as if she had been drinking. He knew she hadn't. Once the door to "their" house had closed behind them, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him. She was breathing heavier too, and squirming in an unusual way. He looked at her, and suddenly a realization began to dawn on him. It had been a long time, but he had seen this squirm before. When a woman was aroused, REALLY aroused, the increased blood flow to her sexual organs created a sense of pressure that made her slightly uncomfortable. She was fidgeting to try to relieve that pressure. And fidgeting just wasn't doing it.

He wasn't sure what he should do, or say, if anything. Obviously she knew the invitation was always open, right? She would have asked if she wanted his...um...help with this problem? He felt his own body begin to respond as he thought of the myriad ways he would like to solve it for her. He had to figure out what to do, and quickly, before he completely embarrassed himself.

XXXXXXX

Scully felt the tension in the unbroken silence as keenly as she felt the tension down below. She watched and knew that Mulder had realized what was going on. And now, he was trying to figure out how to handle it without offending her. Society had simultaneously dictated that men were to do the asking...but at the same time the asking was potentially unwelcome and offensive. She realized that it was up to her. She had been denying this for six long years. She had tried to convince herself that their jobs would be jeopardized, their friendship destroyed, and myriad other complications. But right now, she realized that she was going to have to take that chance. And she was going to have to make the first move.

She looked down and noticed that he was definitely hard. Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached out and stroked his erection through his jeans, then reached up with the other hand and tugged playfully at his belt. "Please?" She asked, looking up at him.

XXXXXXXX

Mulder thought he was simply going to die right there of a heart attack. She had just reached out and grabbed hold of him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He was suddenly fully hard and positively aching for her. "Oh God, Scully." He murmured as he grabbed her and planted a rough, passionate kiss on her. "I've waited forever to hear you ask that." he gasped. "Hell yes."

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him, placing her breasts right under his chin. He groaned and realized that there was no way they were going to make it up to the bedroom. He backed up to the couch and collapsed onto it, Scully straddling him. He reached up a hand to unbutton her blouse, popping off a button in his haste. He buried his face between her breasts and moaned again. This was even better that he had fantasized. And he had had six years to hone that fantasy.

XXXXXXX

Scully's entire body thrilled as she landed on top of him on the couch. She tilted her hips to press her crotch against his full, very hard erection. Her head was spinning as he licked between her breasts, and her nipples ached for his attentions. With one hand she quickly reached behind her and unhooked her bra, and then undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse. "Here," she gasped, cupping her now bare breasts and pushing them into his face. "Oh my God Mulder this is..." her statement was interrupted by a growl of pleasure from her own throat as he took one of her nipples into his warm mouth and teased it gently with his tongue.

Her hands plunged downward and fiddled desperately with his belt and the button on his slacks. She paused to stroke him. He felt so good. So hard, and...she hadn't realized...so big. She wanted him in her now. Right now.

"Let me" he whispered around her nipple. He undid the belt and the zipper. "Hold on" he murmured, and lifted them both up to slide down the pants and his underwear at the same time.

"Oh my God, Mulder." she said it again as she slid off of his lap and onto her knees on the floor. It was his turn to gasp as she took him, hot, hard, and twitching, into her mouth.

XXXXXXX

It was all he could do not to come immediately into her mouth. This was truly better than any fantasy he could imagine or any experience he had ever had before. The last thing he wanted to do was cut it short. He didn't know how long he could hold off, though. He glanced down at her sucking on him and realized that she was multitasking-she had removed her own pants and was rubbing herself through her panties as she took him deep into her throat.

"Scully." He reached down and put his hands under her arms and pulled up gently, coaxing her to stand up. He took just a moment to admire her in her very plain yet extremely alluring (and extremely wet) underwear, and then he grabbed the waistband and pulled it down. She moaned with anticipation and threw her head back. She stood on the couch straddling him and he was treated to a view of the luscious flower of her womanhood.

He reached up to touch her, but she shook her head. "Later" she said, with a smirk, and then lowered herself onto him, taking him fully into her all at once, moaning with relief as he filled her.

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Scully moaned as she felt him slide up into her. This. Was utterly. Amazing. She arched her back, tilting him to reach the spot that science didn't recognize, but every woman in the world did. His head was perfectly angled to stroke it as she moved him in and out of her, and before she knew it she was coming, fast and hard. She leaned toward him and pushed a breast into his mouth again, and he happily teased at her still-hard nipple. She felt another wave of pleasure overtake her with only a few strokes. She wanted only one more thing. To keep going.

XXXXXXXX

He felt the rippling of her muscles as she came around him, and it was the best possible feeling he could imagine. The pressure in his cock had reached an amazing degree and he knew he would not be able to last long. As she tightened rhythmically she stuck her nipple in his mouth, and he felt his balls tighten up hard as his body prepared to let go. He reached his hands around and grabbed her beautiful tight little ass and squeezed her to him, and it pushed him over the edge. The spasms wracked his body as he thrust up into her over and over. He felt the warm gush of liquid mingle with hers and dribble down him. This was an utter symphony of pleasurable sensations-a soft breast in his mouth, a warm pussy contracting around his cock and a perfect little ass clutched in his hands. The spasms lasted longer than he had ever experienced, and soon he felt the final surge right before his body relaxed into a gorgeous buzzing afterglow.

XXXXXXX

As his body relaxed she relaxed against him, still enjoying the soft little waves of post orgasmic sensation that still waxed and waned within her. She wiggled to feel him better inside of her. He moaned again. Sweat covered both of them but she leaned her head down and placed a kiss on his forehead, and pushed back his damp hair.

"That was utterly amazing." she whispered. Before he could answer she moved down to kiss him deeply.

"Agreed" he managed to reply once she had broken the kiss. "That was...better than anything, ever, in my entire life."

She smiled at him, and her hands were still stroking his hair. Tingles of pleasure shot through him still at her touch. "Mulder." she said, her face suddenly serious. "I love you."

"Scully." he was unable to keep the smile from his face. "I've loved you for six years, and I'm never going to stop."

"I have to confess this assignment has been...difficult for me. It's just that I...well...I might as well say it. It's too close to what I'd really like." She looked at him with a nervous little expression that melted his heart.

"You really want a big featureless house with busybody neighbors?" he asked, injecting his famous sarcasm to try to ease her fears.

"No Mulder. I want to live with you. I want to be your wife. I want to...well...I want to do this. A lot." She grinned.

"Scully, I want those things too." he said seriously, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. "Especially that last one." Now a mischevious grin crossed his face and he ran a finger up her spine, sparking delicious tingles throughout her body.

"Ohmigoodness don't start me off again unless you're ready to handle me." she moaned, arching her back and grinding herself into him. They were still joined. He gave her a maddeningly adorable smirk. She felt him begin to get hard again inside of her.

"That would be my pleasure. However, let's say we take this into the bedroom? Wouldn't want the neighbors watching through the picture window." He motioned her to stand up and then stood up as well. Without warning he grabbed her into his arms and lifted her up easily as though he was carrying her over a nonexistent threshold. He started up the stairs, and she was impressed by how easily he carried her. She leaned her head down to nuzzle his ear. "Scully, why don't you dig out that blue nightgown, and we can do over the last two nights properly?" he muttered.

"I hope you're not expecting the good night's sleep part." She replied, and sunk her teeth playfully into his ear.

THE END


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